


Only A Fool

by QueenofQuill



Category: Constantine (Comic), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Justice League Dark (Comics)
Genre: Bisexual John Constantine, John Constantine Needs A Hug, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior, Time Travel, smut in chapter 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24541483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofQuill/pseuds/QueenofQuill
Summary: "Only a fool would fall in love with John Constantine and not expect it to be rocky."Desmond simply can't reconcile his love for John with the idea that the man sent him to hell. He may have spent the rest of his life being unable to reconcile that were it not for the Legends needing him to help patch a hole in the timeline."So what's a nice boy like you doing hanging around my Johnny?" asked the dark haired, trench coat draped necromancer.
Relationships: John Constantine/Desmond, John Constantine/Nick Necro, John Constantine/Nick Necro/Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine/Zatanna Zatara
Comments: 21
Kudos: 47





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> There simply aren't enough John/Zee/Nick fics out there. So I thought, "What the hell. I'm writing one of my own."
> 
> Also I may be in the minority here but in Legends who else thinks that the whole 'being sent to hell thing' was pretty much all Des' fault? I mean what the hell did he expect John to do? There were so many innocents at risk with Neron running around. John warned him to leave town and not only did he NOT do that but he offered himself to the damn demon meaning John either sends the bastard to hell or said bastard ends up owning him anyway because he has Desmond. I know he loved John and wanted to save him but this is the Goddamned Hellblazer. He should have let John do his goddamned job. 
> 
> Still I don't hate Desmond. I think he was a pretty good telling of the Oliver storyline from the comics. So I wanted to write a story where he was directly confronted with what John is. And what better way to do that by having him meet Zatanna and Nick Necro.
> 
> TIMELINE: Also I know the timeline is a little messy in this story but this is legends. I choose to believe that the Constantine Tv series and legends are not in the same universe and the whole Astra being an adult thing never added up with when Newcastle was supposed to have happened. So, Newcastle happened when John was in his late teens/early 20s and he came to New York looking for Nick Necro to teach him so it would never happen again. Also if your problems are dead then a necromancer is who you'd want to learn from.

The first thing I did upon getting home was go and see my mom. She burst into tears and threw her arms around me. 

"The Gods told me not to expect you until tomorrow. Oh my baby. It really is you."

I wanted to burst into tears myself but I couldn't bear to let her see how much I was hurting, "Since when have you ever doubted the Gods?" I said. 

She let out a sad sound which was akin to a laugh but wasn't quite managing to be one and ushered me inside. I desperately wanted to ask her if she was aware of where I had been but was terrified that she actually knew. She sat me down and made the special blend of tea she liked to make when she was upset. Once we were settled in the living room she saved me from having to ask, "Your Englishman came around and told me what happened."

"Please tell me you didn't curse him."

Part of me wanted to curse him myself but despite everything, no matter what, I didn't wanted to hurt John. Hating him this much wasn't killing me as much as the memory of hell but at least hell was a memory now. My feelings for John were still fresh and raw. 

"Oh I wanted to but my great-grandmother told me when I was a little girl that a dark soul with an angel's purpose would one day deliver me terrible news about my son. She warned me not to curse him," she paused. "I did give him a good slap though." 

I chuckled at that. 

"He told me he was going to fix it. I didn't quite believe him until I consulted the Gods. They told me that, 'Time and distance move out of the way for John Constantine.' I thought there was little choice but to believe."

'Time and distance move out of the way for John Constantine.' I would have rolled my eyes had I not know how true that was. I knew as soon as I met John that he was dangerous but there was a big different between knowing something and seeing it. I had heard tales of the Hellblazer. The man who was able to defeat Gods and demons. What struck me so much upon first meeting him was how unassuming he was. Not only was he was small in stature but I felt far less power radiating from him than I expected. This was supposed to be a man that made Hell sit up and pay attention. It wasn't that he wasn't powerful, far from it. Just in comparison to other magic users with the same reputation he was comparatively weak. I think that is what intrigued me the most. Here was this feared name in the magical community and it was an unassuming, English, street magician. That is what cemented my decision to take him home that night. I'm not saying that decision had nothing to do with him being handsome and charming but I had pretty much always had my pick of handsome and charming men. They came into the bar every day and I was well aware that a handful of them came in for me. Still, John was something different. He was intriguing and exciting but most of all he looked like he needed a friend. 

I didn't really have any magic to speak of but I had grown up around it my whole life and I was naturally sensitive to its presence. It is why a number of my childhood friends were ghosts. Not that I had any trouble making living friends because as well as being sensitive towards the dead, I felt the same towards the living. I was always able to tell exactly what a person needed and in addition, feel the urge to provide it. My mom had always known this and had made her peace with me trailing home boyfriend after boyfriend with too many jagged edges to speak of. 

She had only met John once before I went to hell because John had continuously refused to meet my family. He said that, it heralded bad things for him. Which I guess was true because three weeks later I was in hell. I wasn't entirely naive. I knew that John's work was dangerous and that he had lost people but when he tried to tell me it was an inevitability I didn't believe him. I thought he was just scared to be happy. 

With good reason apparently. 

Mom brewed me some tea to help me sleep and said that I would be living with her until the goat entrails said otherwise. I didn't dream thanks to the Ashwagandha and Oatflower but right up until I drifted off, my thoughts were of John.


	2. Glitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Des gets a knock on the door from the second last person he wanted to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I switched to third person. First person was only for the prologue. Everything will be consistent from now on. 
> 
> Time travel and magic are messy so I hope this whole thing makes sense. 
> 
> To those who have not read Hellblazer, yes the synchronicity highway is a real thing "Time, movement, even distance just sit up and beg for him" is how it is described. And that is how John is usually in the right place at the right time and anything bad that is supposed to happen to him happens to people in his proximity. 
> 
> I thought with Charlie being a fate that would be interesting to make a connection with. Also I wish we had gotten more John and Charlie screen time. They are totally platonic, soulmates. If they had met years ago they would have totally been in a band together.

On the surface of it, Des' life was pretty much back to normal. His mother had taken care of his business and had held off on registering him as deceased so there was no messy paperwork. Regular patrons asked him about his 'travels' and he plastered on a smile and spun tall tales of sightseeing in Europe. Adam, his sous chef, inquired about John but quickly dropped the subject. The look on Des' face must have said enough for him. Adam always was 'a good lad' as John would say.

Des didn't get back into his social circle right away because he knew that his friends would be a lot pushier about sharing travel stories than patrons were. Also there was Jamila (whom Des had loved like a sister since they had been seven years old, but), she would ask lots of questions about John. The Englishman hadn't met all of Des' friends, in fact Jamila was the only one and, that was only because she heard he was dating someone and 'accidentally' turned up at Des' apartment while John was there, thinking, 'Wasn't it _this_ Friday we were supposed to meet.'

Despite his unwillingness to inject himself into any area of Des' life, John didn't miss a beat. 

"Yer aw-right luv. Y'aren't interrupting much." Before flashing a sideways grin, taking her hand and saying, "You must be Jamila. I've 'eard a great many things about you."

"All good I hope," Jamila replied with a grin of her own. 

"Well I certainly enjoyed hearing about them. I'm hoping you have some stories of yer own."

Des had let out a sigh and vowed to never bring up the topic of John meeting his friends again. He had also vaguely wondered if John was making a serious effort to dazzle her to punish Des for pushing the issue of meeting loved ones. Regardless, Jamila had been thoroughly charmed by John and had taken great delight in teasing Desmond about his 'English Gentleman'. He would have told her that John was pretty much as far from a gentleman as an Englishman could get if that wouldn't have provided more fodder for teasing. He had been able to avoid any other encounters by telling her that John traveled a lot for work. Still, the minute she saw him she would ask questions that Des was not in the mood to answer and she wouldn't just be satisfied with, 'We broke up.'

Besides that, it was as if he never left. He just slotted back into his life as it was before he met John ... apart from the nightmares ... and the occasional panic-attacks and the lack of will to leave the house for anything but work. 

He had taken to creating routines for himself. If he focused on things that needed to be done then he wasn't thinking about hell, or Neron, or ... John. 

Losing John was the one thing he thought he would be able to deal with. The man sent him to hell. He shouldn't be missing him this much. But then he'd hear an English accent on TV or he'd smell cigarette smoke or he'd see someone with dirty-blonde hair and all those feelings would come flooding back. He would remember how witty he was, or how brave he was, and some nights when sleep just wouldn't come to him, he would remember how vulnerable he was. 

On the first night they had spent together, John had been exciting, almost wild. Every move felt combative. Every moment of eye contact felt like a dare. It made Des want to please him, to show him exactly what he could do. But as they got to know each other John quickly took to letting Des take the lead. Des had felt as though, this wasn't something John did with a lot of people and the fact that he felt comfortable enough to just hand himself over to Des, felt like a gift. It made him feel special. After hell the young man found himself wondering if his ever reliable intuition had read John wrong. He wondered if he was ever special to that man. 

The knock at the door came when he was getting ready to cook dinner. He debated keeping a hold of the knife he was using because his mother would have just knocked once to announce herself and then came in. No-one else visited him. He then told himself he was being paranoid and Jamila or one of his other friends had probably gotten impatient and decided to demand that he stop avoiding them. Nevertheless he still cautiously peered through the peep hole. It was one of the women who had helped John defeat Neron. She was blonde and tiny but Desmond could tell that she was dangerous. (The same, after all, could be said about John). He kept the chain on as he opened the door and peered out at her. 

"Hey," her voice was gentle as she spoke. "You're Desmond, right? I'm Sara. I'm a friend of John's. Listen I know I'm probably one of the last people you ever wanted to see again but I really need your help."

"What could you possibly need my help for?" he asked, more confused than snide. 

"We're dealing with a glitch and it's all surrounding you. I know you have no reason to trust me but it is going to be really difficult having this conversation with half your face so please, can we talk properly?"

Des thought for a moment. No-one else seemed to be with her and he found that both relieving and disappointing. He wanted to tell her that whatever she was dealing with wasn't his problem but he knew that if the leader of a bunch of ... time guardians was coming to him for help, they must really need it and his own feelings didn't stack up against whatever mayhem they were trying to fix. Before Sara stepped inside she said, "By the way a friend of mine is here too. She'll be able to explain what's happening better than me."

Des peered down the hall and saw a young woman with dark skin standing there with her hands in her pockets and an easy smile on her face. Her clothes and hair reminded Des of some of the pictures he'd seen of John's old punk friends. Of course styles had moved on since then but it still put him in mind of that rebellious look. Rebel-chic was a good name for it. 

"Sure, come in," he acquiesced, allowing the two women to follow him inside. 

"Thanks mate," said the dark-skinned one as she closed the door. Her accent was English. Noticeably different from John's but it tugged at his heart all the same. In fact, so much of this woman put him in mind of John; the smile she gave him, the way she had leaned against the wall, the way she stood with her hands in her pockets. It wasn't exactly like him but it was just similar enough that he wanted them to say what they came to say and leave as soon as possible. "I know that us being here is bringing back a lot of things you probably want to forget but," she paused and took a breath. "I'm afraid our John's gone and put a glitch in fate."

To say that Des didn't process those words would be an understatement. All he could do was shake his head an say, "What? What the hell does that mean?"

"I think you'd better sit down," said Sara.

Des fell, almost boneless onto the sofa and the rebel-chic girl sat down next to him. "I think first I have to explain who I am. You've heard the Greek stories of the fates, right?"

Des nodded.

"Well, you're looking at one," she said, trying to be light-hearted about it but not doing a good job. "Me and my sisters use to weave the fates of mortals using a loom. A long time ago I broke the bloody thing to pieces and ran away. My sisters tried to reassemble the loom but John, the Legends and I stopped them in time." She looked down at the floor, suddenly looking ashamed. "You see, I knew John wanted to use the loom. He thought it could fix the mistakes he'd made. I thought I had convinced him that no good could come of using it. I was so stupid."

"Charlie, Charlie," said Sara gently, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "This is John we're talking about. He's fooled some of the most powerful beings in the multiverse ... and they weren't his friends. This isn't your fault."

The girl, whom Des now knew was called Charlie, nodded her head and turned back to Des, "He spent so long researching the loom and trying to find ways to use it's magic to erase all the bad caused by his presence in the world while keeping all the good things he's done in tact. And bloody hell if the crafty bastard didn't manage it."

"So he did it?" Des asked, confused because if Des had never gone to hell then why did he still remember it?

Charlie bit her lip, "Well not exactly. You see, everything he did should have worked. He created a spell that would allow him to take a thread from the loom, cut it up and stitch it back together, leaving only the good parts. Theoretically it should have worked but all it did was erase John from certain parts of the timeline while keeping all his deeds in tact. I still don't know how ..."

"Time and distance move out of the way for John Constantine."

"What did you say?" Sara asked, stepping forward. 

"It's what the Gods said to my mother. If time and distance can't affect John then ..."

"Of course," Charlie exhaled. "John rides the synchronicity highway. I didn't think that was possible for anyone let alone a mortal."

"What is the synchronicity highway?" asked Sara. 

"It's a path that allows the walker to ride the waves of fate ... well not really, it's hard to explain. Essentially it just means that fate doesn't affect John the same way it does everyone else. Time and distance can't touch him and if fate dictates that John needs something he will have it and," she pauses and gives a quick look to Desmond that is full of sadness, "anything that could potentially be his downfall ends up befalling someone else. This is incredible. I don't even know if John's aware that he does this." Charlie stood up and started walking around the room, "That's why I'm here. That's why his power affects my shape-shifting more than it should. That's why I'm so drawn to him." She paused again, putting her hands in her pockets and shrugging to herself, "I thought he was just cool."

If everything she said was true (and Des was following everything correctly), it was also probably why she was currently inhabiting the form and persona she had now. It was because of John. 

Des leaned forward and put his head in his hands, because what else could he do. "So what does this have to do with me?" he asked, dreading the answer. 

"Well to be honest, you going to hell was the last thing in his thread that he cut out. There is a way to reverse the spell but it needs to be done by the last person to be affected by the change because if a person affected in John's twenties for example, did it, it would only be fixed up to that point. The rest of his thread would remain a cut and stitch job and John's life essence would still be scattered."

This was making Des' head hurt, "I can't help you. I don't practice magic."

"No," Sara said. "But you are magically inclined."

"And you don't even have to do that much magic. All you have to do is travel with us to the longest point in time that John's thread is whole and get him to perform the reversal spell on his patched up thread, with you."

"The spell is simple," Sara assured him. "It will be convincing him to do it that will be tricky. We can only risk erasing John's memories of one person while we are there. Anything else and we could risk affecting his magic which could not only damage his thread but also affect the timeline. Our memory erasure technology is incredibly precise so the risk is not great but that risk will increase with every memory we use it on."

"But don't worry, we'll still be there talking you through it every step of the way. You go in, we get you and John doing the spell together, wipe his memories of you and get you home," Charlie chirped with that easy smile of hers. 

"And if we don't get him back where he belongs ... every single piece of him, good and bad, fate looks set to crumble."

Des was feeling incredibly overwhelmed. Processing everything they were saying was likely to give him a panic attack if he didn't pull himself together. He stood up and started pacing around the room like a caged animal. He had two strangers in his house telling him that his ex-boyfriend had tried to erase the sins of his past, which included sending Desmond to hell by cutting the thread of his own fate. Not only that but it should have worked but didn't because fate was so reliant on John.

"I can't, I can't help you. I ..." he was trying to think of a good excuse that didn't just boil down to, his own feelings but came up empty. 

Sara stepped closer and looked him directly in the eye, "I can't tell you what breaking fate means because I honestly don't know but what I do know is that, years from now people's histories won't be as they should be because John Constantine won't be there. His pain and his mistakes are what drive him to save people. All the lives his guilt and desperation should have saved will be gone."

She said nothing else, didn't even ask him if he could live with that, just told him the truth of the situation and left him with one option. 

"When in John's timeline are we travelling to?"


	3. Acquaintances; New and Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Des meets the crew and Captain Lance gives a briefing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a set up chapter for the good stuff. I wanted to get the explanations out of the way so I could focus more on the emotional stuff later. What better excuse for set up than a briefing?
> 
> Also, sorry if your fav legends are missing, they are not all going to play a part in this story so I didn't want to go through an unnecessary slog of Des meeting all of them.

Des debated whether or not to tell his mother about the whole situation. On the one hand he didn't want to worry her and Sara and Charlie assured him that they could return him to the very point in time they would leave. On the other hand, on the off chance that anything bad happened to him on this mission he wanted to make sure his mother wasn't, once again left wondering.

She had a resigned look on her face which Des suspected she had been wearing since before he even knocked on the door. 

"The fate of fate depends on this?" she questioned. "Really?"

"Apparently," he said, glancing at the alter in her living room. He didn't have the same relationship with the Gods that his mother did but he always respected them. At this point in time though, they were starting to get on his nerves with just how useless they were. "Honestly, it's nothing to worry about. I'm not going anywhere dangerous. You wait and see. I'll walk out that door and a minute later I'll be knocking on it again telling you I'm alright."

As he walked out of the safety of his mother's house and allowed himself to be transported to the time ship John's friends called 'The Waverider' he sincerely hoped that he hadn't been proven a liar and he and his mother were sitting having tea right at that moment. 

The Waverider crew were all very friendly but awkward around him. Des suspected they were just trying to avoid talking about Des' time as a demon's skin suit. A tall man with floppy, dark hair and a face that was forever stuck in a puppy-like expression, was the most talkative. 

"I'm Ray," he had said, after bounding over to him and shaking his hand. "I'm a doctor so don't worry about any injuries on this mission. You'll be well taken care of," he paused and then stuttered, "Not that you'll need it or anything. Captain Lance says that this mission is very safe. Just wanted you to know that I was here."

Des took pity on the man and gave him a reassuring smile. "No worries. Anything to do with John is bound to be messy so it's good to know you're here."

Ray let out a very audible sigh of relief. Des decided that he found him very endearing. In fact everyone he had met on the ship (perhaps with the exception of the Captain) seemed to be fairly well-adjusted, nice, happy people. Des found it baffling how John could have carried so much pain and loneliness in his heart if these were people who considered him a friend. It made him think that John must be the kind of person who expects and accepts the inevitable, but something deep inside him just wouldn't allow him to believe that. 

Ray got this look on his face as though he wasn't sure if he should say what was in his head but decided to anyway, "You know, John really loved you ... loves you," he gave an uncomfortable chuckle, "I'm pretty sure he still thinks about you all the time."

Des didn't quite know what to say to that so he said nothing and mercifully Ray dropped the subject, "You wanna get something to eat before Captain Lance calls for the briefing. She'll be another half hour or so, finalising the details."

Des wasn't really hungry but decided that it was probably best to eat something before this mission started. Also he just didn't have the heart to turn down kindness. 

The briefing was clear and concise. Sara laid out the objectives step by step:

"First, we locate John. We'll do this by scoping out the oblivion club. If he's not there we'll talk to people in the community to get more information, starting with where Zatanna Zatara will next be performing.

"Second, we observe John's movements and try to get him on his own.

"Third, Des you get acquainted with John. Take it slow, keep it casual and when he gets reasonably comfortable, tell him the story of the loom of fate, maintaining that it was a friend of yours who cut and stitched up the thread. Wait for my signal on that front because we will have to wipe his memories of that information so we don't want to run the risk of him telling anyone else without us knowing. Any questions?"

Another blonde woman, taller than Sara piped up, "I hate to admit this but John is pretty smart and infuriatingly perceptive. He's going to ask questions about why Des needs _him_ to perform the spell. That is, if he doesn't suss out that something is going on sooner than that."

"Good point," said Sara, turning to Charlie. 

"It's alright," the shape-shifter piped up. "Just tell John that he rides the synchronicity highway. Tell him that his connection to fate is what you need to fix this. Every conversation with Des is going to be wiped from his memory anyway so it won't do any harm. If he questions you about it more just give him this." Charlie passed Des a medallion. "It shows the wearer the highway. Since John rides it without knowing, wearing that necklace will slot so many things into place for him. No chance he doesn't believe you after that."

Des took the medallion. It looked so innocuous and yet it could show him a piece of John's power. The thing that kept him so far removed from anyone he might otherwise get close to. 

Sara spoke again as Des slotted the medallion into his pocket, "Okay, now that we all know our objectives, Gideon, anyone we need to look out for?"

"The most well-respected names in the New-York magical community at this point in time are Zatanna Zatara (a well known stage magician), Nicolas Nolan (also known as Nick Necro, a skilled necromancer), and John Constantine (known as The Hellblazer and well-respected as a master of the occult specialising in demonology). There is also a magical cult known as 'The Cold Flame' currently active in New York. It is quite old but has only recently started to gain a following and perpetrate magical misdeeds," Gideon answered in her matter of fact, yet strangely comforting voice. 

Sara looked wary due to the information but not fazed, "Remind us where we're most likely to find John?"

"He, Zatanna and Necro spend a significant amount of time at 'The Oblivion Club'. Zatanna often performs there," Gideon paused as if sifting through more information. "It also seems to be the consensus among the magical community that she, Mr Constantine and Nick Necro are all in a long-term, committed relationship. Rarely is one seen without the others close by."

Sara rolled her eyes but didn't look surprised. Des didn't even know why he _was_. John hadn't made any secret about his exes but had warned Des that there had been a lot of them. Sometimes they came up in conversation and Des thought he remembered John mentioning that an ex boyfriend of his had been a necromancer but nothing about a threeway relationship with him and a woman who would become (in Des' home time) one of the most powerful and well-known magic users in the world. What was worrying Des more at that moment however was the fact that John had also mentioned that this necromancer had 'gone barmy'. 

"Right," Sara said, standing up straight. "Charlie and I will accompany Des on the mission. Everyone else is back up. Nora you are our first port of call for magical emergencies but we've heard, there's a good chance that your dad could be kicking around the oblivion club so we'll only call you if we need you. If there are no more questions, let's get going."

Des had been silent throughout the entire briefing and he didn't really have anything to say as he was led to the ship's exit, either. All he could think about was the fact that he was going to see John again after what felt like, both forever and no time at all, and the man wasn't even going to know his name. 


	4. Oblivion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you say to your ex-boyfriend 12 years before you met him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Yeah I know Constantine in the comics has blue eyes but Matt Ryan's eyes are just so dark and pretty and deep, I'd rather Constantine have them.
> 
> (2) Yes John really did take Papa Midnite for fifty-thousand dollars in the Hellblazer comics. (I'm blending my favourite canons here). 
> 
> (3) Yes Chas is English, because he is. I LOVE the TV show but that is not part of this canon.

The club was busy but it was set up in such a way that people are encouraged to sit and talk rather than stand around. Des was most certainly not a spy but gave his best effort to look around discreetly. 

"I don't see John," he said into his comms. "I'm going to hang around at the bar for a while and then I'll ask the bar tender."

Working the bar at his own restaurant made him well aware of the fact that bar tenders are treasure troves of information. Especially if they work at the kind of establishment that attracts regulars. 

"Okay," Sara said. "Don't worry if John doesn't appear tonight. Charlie's met up with some local teenage magicians. They told us that John, Necro and Zatara are all in town and when they are in New York they are always around this area. We're gonna try and get some information on this 'Cold Flame' just on the off chance they might be a problem. So I'm going to go silent but don't worry I'm still here."

And with that, Des was on his own for the time being. At this point though he wasn't concerned because he posed no threat to anyone at the club and the Oblivion patrons seemed to be the kind of people to leave you alone unless they wanted to do business. Des knew a thing or two about these kinds of magical communities. They all worked on hierarchies. No-one talks to mages more powerful than themselves unless they need something. Des chuckled to himself, thinking that it was a little like a teen drama writer's idea of high school. Nevertheless it kept people in line and stopped fights breaking out. 

He decided to finish his first drink and only when ordering a second did he ask, "Excuse me, I'm looking for an exorcist. I hear, John Constantine is the person to talk to."

Saying he needed an exorcist was probably a better idea than just asking for John. Magical folk (especially Occult/New Age types) were generally pretty paranoid so if John heard that someone was looking for him specifically it was going to get his guard up very fast. 

"Constantine's in here all the time. Should show himself at some point tonight." The bar tender then looked at a booth on the wall parallel to the bar. "If he's not in Necro's usual booth making hard eyes with him, then he's not here yet. He might even be on stage with Zatanna. Her show'll be starting in twenty minutes. Hang around for it. It's always a hell of a performance."

"Thanks man," Des said as he took the drink the bar tender handed him. 

Des was about to take a sip when he saw him. He was wearing a Sex Pistols T-shirt, skinny jeans and a leather jacket but it was definitely him; same blonde hair, same cocky grin, same inky, dark eyes. (1)

"Johnny," he breathed before he could stop himself, but thankfully John was too far away to hear him. 

Des couldn't help but stare, taking in every inch of him. His spiky hair looked more deliberately styled than the just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-ran-fingers-through-it-once look Des was familiar with. While his John had ever present stubble, this John looked like he had hardly started growing facial hair. The biggest difference though were his eyes. They still looked world-weary and older than his current twenty-four years, but he look more at peace with himself than Des had ever seen him. In their time together John had definitely been happy but there was always an edge to him, like he could never truly get comfortable. Des had tried his best to remove that feeling and even though John would sometimes get this look on his face, like he couldn't believe how happy he was, Des could never quite get rid of that belief John had, that he didn't _deserve_ to be happy. 

This John still had bags under his eyes (and Des would wager that he, even now, carried a great amount of guilt, shame, and feelings of worthlessness) but he seemed content to just accept that life was good. 

A huge smile came across the blonde man's face and he started walking towards the bar. Des followed his line of sight and saw a woman he could swear was not standing there a second ago. She was strikingly beautiful, with milky skin and black hair falling over her shoulders and across her forehead. 

'This must be Zatanna,' Des thought as John scooped her up into his arms and said something which made her laugh, wrap her arms around his neck and lean down to kiss him. 

Des couldn't take his eyes away. There was a tight feeling of jealousy in his chest but it was also accompanied by a sense of warmth that came with seeing John so happy. It made Des wonder what must have happened to turn this twenty-four year old into the jagged, self-deprecating, lonely man Des had fallen in love with. 

Now, once again, Des was not a practicing mage but he had always possessed magical instincts. This was probably why, he was acutely aware of an intense pair of eyes on him. He discreetly turned around, trying to look as though he was just getting comfortable on the bar stool. Then he used his peripheral vision to look at the booth that had been pointed out to him. There sat a conventionally handsome, dark-haired man wearing a white shirt and tie, and a familiar looking trench coat. The man was staring at him appraisingly, with just the slightest hint of wary hostility. 

'This must be Nick Necro,' Des thought to himself. 

Des tried to go back to keeping an eye on John as discreetly as he could but he knew that Necro had his eye on him now. About ten minutes later John reached into his pocket to pull out his cigarettes. He put one to his lips and fired up his lighter but before the flame could touch the cigarette Zatanna clicked her fingers, extinguishing the flame before pointing to the back door of the club. John just grinned at her charmingly and said something before winking and heading where he was directed. Des could tell that Zatanna wanted to shake her head at him because Des had more than once wanted to do the same. She then headed back stage. 

He realised that this was the perfect time to talk to John alone but with Necro's ever present gaze, Des' instincts told him that there was no way he was getting outside without the other man following him. So he decided to finish his drink and head to the bathroom. Luckily that was out of Necro's view so unless the man was wary enough of Des to follow him, there was a chance that he could get from there to the back door without the other man seeing.

The bathroom at Oblivion was quite dark but there was a magical light that allowed occupants to see where they were going. It was impossible to tell where the light was coming from. For all intents and purposes it should have been a dark room but Des could still see everything ... including the two warlocks in their early twenties, making out in the corner of the room. They didn't seem to notice or care that Des was there so he didn't make any pretense of going to the toilet. Just washed his hands and pulled out a hand held communicator to send a quick update to Sara. 

He then decided that three minutes was enough time and cautiously exited the bathroom, making his way to the exit. When he got outside John was stamping out his cigarette and pulling out another. 

"Hey, can I trouble you for one of those?" Des asked, managing to make his voice casual and friendly even though his heart was thumping like a drum. 

John looked up at him, dark eyes appraising for a moment before his mouth took on a flirtatious smile and he very deliberately looked Des up and down. "No problem," he said, offering him the packet.

Des took one and angled his head for John to light it. Des didn't normally smoke but he had done so frequently in his teens so he could take one without coughing.

"So what's your story, handsome?"

"I'm looking for help with something. I'm not much of a magic user."

John gave him an inquisitive look. People who had no magical ability had no chance of getting into the club because there were magical barriers everywhere and the bouncers tested everyone. 

"By choice," Des clarified. "My family comes from a long line of practitioners. I decided, it wasn't for me."

"Smart lad," John said sincerely, as he took another drag. "So what's this problem you need 'elp with?"

"I was hoping to get to know some people first before giving out that information," Des tried to inject a playful tone into his voice so as not to get John's guard up.

It worked. John let out a laugh and said, "Now, you _are_ a sharp one aren't ya?" he paused and tilted his head as he appraised Des again. "Voodoo, right?"

Des let out a long exhale of smoke. "How'd you guess?"

John leaned against the wall, grinning at him again, "Well, the New Orleans accent for one. Spent some time there myself. Got to know the voodoo types. Safe to say I'm not well-liked in that community."

Des knew that John was referring to his run-ins with Papa Midnite. This was a good card to play. John may have dangerously low self-esteem but he also had an ego. It was a weapon Des had used many times to pull John out of an emotional slump. 

"Hang on a sec ... you're John Constantine?"

John raised an eyebrow, but Des could tell he wasn't on edge, just curious, "And what would make you say that?"

"Just something I heard floating around voodoo circles," Des said, making sure to keep a smile on his face the whole time. "I heard Papa Midnite's boys were after an Englishman name Constantine who took Papa for fifty-thousand dollars (2). Was that you?"

John laughed and held up his hands, "You got me. You got me. Guilty as sin, I am," John threw away the stub of his cigarette and put his hands in his pockets. "You interested in collecting a bounty?"

Des chuckled, stubbing out his own cigarette and throwing it away, "Naw. Another thing floating around voodoo circles is that you're more trouble than you're worth."

John laughed again. The ability to illicit that kind of reaction made Des' stomach flip. 

"Far be it from me to call those upstanding Zombie lovers, liars." There was a pause before he said, "Anyway, as much as I'd love to stand out here chatting I've got a show to watch. What's the time?"

"7:55."

"Jesus Christ, and I'm cutting it close," another pause. "You here with anyone?"

"No, just me."

"Why don't you come and sit with us?"

"Us?" Des questioned. 

"Me and Nick. If you've heard of me I'm sure you've heard of him, and _us_. If he's a bit of an arsehole, pay him no mind. Come on, I'll even get you a drink."

"Alright, thanks."

The taller blonde woman on the ship (Des remembered her name being Ava) was worried that John would smell a scam coming a mile away. In other circumstances that might have been true but it was different for Des. Not only was he very good with people to the point where it had to be his magic subconsciously playing a part, but he knew John. He knew exactly what to say to get the reaction he wanted from that man. He had offered the bait and John had taken it. 

Now there was just Necro to deal with. 

The club was even busier than it was before Desmond went outside. Zatanna was famed for being a great performer but Des didn't know she was this popular so early in her career. He followed John to Necro's booth and plastered a blank look on his face. 

"Hey Nicky, this is ... sorry mate what was your name?"

"Desmond, nice to meet you."

He half expected Nick to refuse to shake his offered hand but the man took it in a firm grip and gestured for Des to sit down, never taking his eyes away from John. 

"Where are you going?" Necro asked John airily as the blond man attempted to walk away. 

John raised an eyebrow in what looked like a teasing challenge, "Going to get us some drinks."

"No need," Necro replied, clicking his fingers. "Our girl's gonna be starting in about two minutes." Three beers appeared on the table as Nick stretched out to grab John's wrist and yank him into the booth. John allowed it with an indulgent smile. They ended up back to chest with Nick's arm around John's shoulder, John all but in his lap. Nick, ignoring Desmond during the whole interaction. Des stifled the urge to roll his eyes. He remembered a time when John's friend Chas had come over for a visit and expressed his surprise that Des was such a, 'decent bloke'. (3)

"Sorry," he had said. "It's just, all of John's boyfriends have been the worst." The man seemed to ponder something before continuing. "He's always had surprisingly good taste in women but awful taste in guys. There are probably some latent daddy issues at work there but I am _not_ touching that."

At which point John had reentered the room and thrown a sock at Chas' head. 

Des took a sip of his beer as the lights became dimmer. Necro's booth had a perfect view of both the bar and the stage so Des could see everything. Zatanna appeared in a puff of smoke, wearing a corset, a floor length skirt and a top hat which covered her eyes. She then tilted the hat up smiling at the audience. Des, along with everyone else at the club was enraptured. No-one could take their eyes off Zatanna as she performed mesmerising acts of magic. At one point she made tigers appear on everyone's tables. They were so real that Des could feel the heat of it's breath as it growled in his face. Little did he know that was just the warm up. In a puff of smoke the tigers were gone ... but so was John. Des looked back towards the stage. John was suspended upside down above the stage, with his hands bound behind his back. Zatanna jumped on a podium and shouted, "EMALFA EGATS EHT TES!"

And with that the stage erupted in flames. John twisted in his bonds as the rope keeping him suspended started to lower. Des held his breath, his eyes never leaving John. That was probably the idea because by the time John had freed his arms no-one had looked at Zatanna once.

"ETATIVEL!"

Des' attention snapped to the woman who was now standing on an alter not a podium and was holding a knife not a wand. He wondered how she did it because all these warlocks should have noticed an incantation or at least some kind of magical shift but everyone seemed stunned. The rope holding John was gone and he was now floating above the stage entirely with Zatanna's magic. As the flames died down she jumped off the alter and lowered John onto it. The show was not done, even though Desmond didn't think he could witness anything more mesmerising than everything he had just seen. Oh boy, was he wrong. 

John lay perfectly still on the alter as Zatanna whispered, "trihs nepo tuc."

And before the audience knew it John's chest was laid bare and Zatanna was straddling his hips. She slowly lowered the knife until it was between John's collar bones and dragged it down his skin, cutting him open. John arched his back and neck, letting out a gasp but it certainly didn't look like he was in pain. The woman then put down the knife and lowered her hands into the wound until she was elbow deep inside his body. John's torso wasn't even that deep, her hands should have gone through him and into the alter. It should have been disgusting but it was like watching an expertly shot love scene in a movie. John's neck arched so much that his view of the world must have been upside down. His mouth was open and his eyes were glazed over in what could only be described as ecstasy. 

It wasn't an illusion. Even the most novice mage in the world could tell that this wasn't an illusion so how was she doing it? Des knew that look on John's face. He knew the man's mind was (for that short time) quiet. 

The room was silent for a moment until Zatanna pulled her arms out. They were stained red from fingertip to elbow.

She spread them wide and said, "Ladies and gentlemen please check your pockets."

Everyone did as they were told, pulling out average looking playing cards. 

"For those of you who aren't regulars, Three of Hearts is our lucky card."

Des looked at his own card. It was the Three of Hearts. 

"Boo!" a teasing voice came from his right side. There, sitting between him and Necro was John, with no injury whatsoever (not even a torn shirt), and the biggest shit-eating grin on his face Des had ever seen. 

After the audience had located John, they turned their attention back to Zatanna. The alter was gone and her arms were clean. She shot sparks into the air, bowed and disappeared from the stage in a cloud of smoke. As the audience burst into applause Des was left stunned into silence. He had always known that John was into a lot of rough stuff (rougher than Des was willing to get), but he had never imagined that the man had allowed his lovers to take a knife to him. 

Because that was more than a performance. That felt intimate enough that Des was sure that many people in the room felt as though they shouldn't be watching. Perhaps that was the idea. Oblivion was supposed to contain a lot of forbidden and dangerous pleasures. 

For the first time since accepting this mission Des truly wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the metaphorical/literal penetration but come on, how do you impress a room full of magicians with a magic show?
> 
> You bury your arms in your boyfriend's rib cage of course. 
> 
> This idea came from scionofthelongproject's fic 'touching hearts, that kind of jazz'. Check it out it's great. The sex is more than metaphorical in that fic ;)


	5. Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Necro already suspicious of Des they need to figure out a way to get John on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) This little Gem is from the Constantine: The Hellblazer short run (not to be confused with the currently ongoing John Constantine: The Hellblazer, which I totally recommend by the way. The art is beautiful). 
> 
> (2) Sorry I have no idea when it comes to New York street names.

As Des walked to the meet up point arranged by Sara and Charlie he couldn't help but meditate on everything he had seen that night. 

Zatanna joined them in the booth shortly after the show ended. Nick picked her up and kissed her in much the same way John had done earlier in the evening. He then whispered something in her ear with a salacious grin, causing her to playfully slap him on the shoulder. After Nick put her down she leaned into the booth to kiss John so tenderly that Des had trouble believing that he had just watched this woman cut him open. 

Zatanna then slid into the booth and turned a genuinely friendly smile Des' way, "Who's your friend?" she asked. 

"This is Desmond, he's on the look out for a bit of magical assistance aren't ya, mate?" supplied John. 

Des leaned over the table, offering his had, "Call me Des and yes, I do need a bit of help but I'm not quite sure who the best person to ask is yet."

"Why don't you tell us the problem and we'll see if it interests us," said Nick. 

Chas had been right about John's taste in partners. Zatanna seemed like a decent person but this guy was an ass. He was now sat directly across from Desmond, his elbows resting on the back of the booth like he owned the place. 

"What Nick means is," Zatanna interjected, giving Necro the side-eye, "why don't you give us some information and we'll see what we can do?"

Des had a brief moment of panic as he debated what to tell them. He then realised that since he had interacted with Necro and Zatanna in addition to John, the two formers would have to have their minds wiped too. So there shouldn't be much harm in telling them a little. 

"Do any of you know much about the synchronicity highway?"

John and Zatanna looked genuinely confused, and if Des wasn't specifically looking for it he would have missed the minute eyebrow raise on Necro's face. He knew something alright. Des didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Probably bad since it was going to mean Necro would be even more wary of him. Did he know about John connection to fate or his ability to ride the highway?

"Sorry mate, can't 'elp you there," said John. 

"I'm sure we have some books on the subject," Nick said surprisingly. "If you can make it back here on Friday night we'll see if we have something for you."

Des was shocked by the offer of help. Necro was the last person Des expected help from so naturally he was suspicious about it. It was also a clear dismissal. He didn't want to push his luck by staying. John may not take well to being controlled but there was more than a chance that he would choose to keep peace with his boyfriend over helping a stranger no matter how much he initially liked him. So Des thought that then was a good time to bow out. 

"I'll do that. Thanks for the drink and it was nice meeting all of you."

"Is that everything?" Sara asked. 

"Yeah," Des replied. "It's going to be pretty hard to get John alone for an extended period of time. I know covens like that. They rarely extend help to anyone without unanimous approval and this Nick Necro is already suspicious of me."

Charlie raised an eyebrow slightly playfully, "You sure he's not just jealous?"

Des smiled, "That is probably what brought me to his attention but he definitely suspects something. I think if he was jealous he'd have chased me away, but instead he offered help. That tells me he wants to know more."

Sara, who looked forever thoughtful, nodded, "If Necro is suspicious then we are going to have lure John away so you can work on him alone."

Charlie shifted her stance, looking restless, "Well, that's all well and good but how are we supposed to swing that. If Des just randomly bumps into him John's definitely going to get suspicious."

"It has to be some kind of magical emergency that his speciality caters to. Severe enough that he would want to help but not dangerous enough that Necro or Zatara will want to come with him."

"Kids." Both women turned to look at Des, waiting for him to clarify, "If it's something to do with helping kids that doesn't directly involve performing magic on a child, John will definitely help."

Charlie flipped her palm upwards and widened her eyes in silence for a moment as if what Des had said was so obvious, "You are a flippin' genius," she paused as a thought came over her. "But how are we going to stage a magic emergency that involves kids?"

"We could ask Nora," Sara suggested. 

"Nora's magic isn't demonic. She could put on a pretty convincing show for a layman but even at this point in his life John has seen some serious shit. There's no way to disguise fairy godmother magic as dark magic."

Des straightened up, "We'll just have to find one. New York is full of dark magic, all we need to do is find something that would easily alarm a child and Charlie, you can shift into a kid and go ask for John's help."

"That's might work but how am I supposed to explain how I found him?"

"Just D.M him," Charlie and Des turned away from each other to look at Sara who was looking at her device. She turned it around so they both could see. "John's on Kregslist."

Des couldn't pinpoint exactly why he found that so funny (maybe it was due to the fact that he had never seen John successfully operate anything more technologically advanced than a microwave), but he burst out laughing. Reading the post made him laugh even harder. 

_Very Handsome Exorcist Will Solve Spookiest Problems (1)_

_Monster hiding under your bed? Gremlins chewing through your walls? Daughter crawling on the ceiling and cursing at you in a foreign tongue? If you have a need for an expert in the paranormal there is no better choice in the tri-state area than JOHN CONSTANTINE._

**_COST VARIES PER JOB. PLEASE ENQUIRE._ **

It was so unexpected but so 'John' at the same time. Charlie chuckled and, if you looked closely there was a fond smirk on Sara's face, "I think we have our in," she said. 

It didn't actually take them that long to find suitable demonic activity. At Des' suggestion they found a scrier to isolate appropriate locations. They chose a minor infestation at a local hotel because staying at the hotel gave Des a believable reason to run into John. 

Charlie made an account on the website, making sure to change into the cutest twelve year old she possibly could before uploading a profile picture. After checking into the hotel and getting a feel for what was really going on, Des typed out the message.

_Please mister Constantine, I live in my dad's hotel and I hear knocking in the walls and scratching at night. Last week there was a big, scary hand and it yanked away my duvet and today something killed my cat._

_I have $83 saved up so I can pay you. It's at the One View Motel on 13th street (2)._

_Please help me._

After checking with Sara and the blonde confirming that Nora would be able to put a spell on the hotel owner to make him think Charlie was his daughter, he pressed send and prayed to his mother's Gods for a reply. 


	6. Conjob Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Des, Charlie and Sara see if they can pull a conjob on Conjob.

_Kid, you know you shouldn't be giving out your address to strangers on the internet._

Was the reply Desmond received two hours later. 

_I know. I normally wouldn't but I just don't know what else to do. My dad won't listen to me. He says the scary hand was my imagination and Jinx must have gotten into a fight with another cat. Here is a picture. Does that look like another cat did that?_

Des replied before forewarding John the picture of the hotel cat that Charlie had managed to swipe off of the owner's phone. There were a tense couple of minutes before the next reply, which was probably John considering saying no but knowing he wouldn't.

_Alright, I'll come and take a look. Meet me in the hotel lobby at 6:00pm._

Des breathed a sigh of relief and replied. 

_Thank-you so much Mister Constantine._

He was about to close the laptop before the last message of the conversation popped up, (because of course John had to get the last word).

_Yeah, yeah Kid. I only said I'd look, remember. I'm making no promises._

That was as good a place as any to leave the conversation. Just as he closed the laptop there was a knock on his hotel door and Charlie and Sara came in with some convenience store food for lunch. Being a chef, Des really didn't like anything that came out of packet but he wasn't going to be a dick and complain about it. This mission may not be incredibly time sensitive but that didn't mean they could afford to play around either. 

"So," said Charlie, around a mouthful of sandwich. "Did he bite?"

"Yes, he told me ... or you, to meet him in the hotel lobby at six o'clock."

They had booked Des' room on the same floor as the demonic happenings and had decided on a code word that Charlie would use when she wanted him to step out of the room and 'coincidently' run into them. 

"This place may not be tiny but it's not large either," said Sara. "It's mostly regulars and travelling businessmen but just make an effort to make sure you don't attract attention."

"Please," said Charlie. "I am the queen of subtlety."

Sara snorted as she opened her packet of spaghetti bolognaise and put it in the little microwave in the corner of the room. Des wasn't hungry as the idea of seeing John again was making his stomach flip. He was slightly frustrated with himself. In the early days of their relationship his heart had always skipped a little whenever he saw John but this was just ridiculous. 

"You okay," Sara asked as she pulled her $3 spaghetti out of the microwave. 

"Sure," Des replied with a smile. "Just hope this works."

Sara didn't look convinced but apparently decided to allow him his own thoughts. 

Come six o'clock Sara and Des were sitting by the surveillance set up, listening to Charlie mumble into her ear piece, "He's not here."

"It's John," Sara said. "He'll come on his own time but if he promised you'd he'd be there he will."

Charlie huffed and sounded like she was about to say something else before her voice cut off and she changed her words, "He's here. He just came in through the door. Here goes nothing." They then heard quick footsteps as Charlie ran up to John, "Mister Constantine, Mister Constantine. Thank-you, thank-you for coming. I'll show you the demon."

"Cool your jets kid. All in good time. First tell me what this demon looked like."

From the research Des had done with the help of Nora and the Waverider library, the demon's name was Surgat. It was mostly know for opening locks, not usually destructive or harmful but the death of the cat begged to differ. 

"At first I thought he was a man but his face looked like an animal skull. I don't know if it was a wolf or a goat or a pig or all three but it had scary horns and long arms and fingers and ..."

"Alright kid, I got it. Just show me the last place you saw him."

"Typical John," Sara muttered. "Great with kids."

Des got the impression that she was only half being sarcastic. Sara let out a chuckle and as if something had just occurred to her, "Did John ever tell you about this one time when a little pre-teen brat in London mouthed-off to him so he pushed him into a pond?"

He laughed. John tended to hide a fair amount of his bad behaviour from Des but he was well aware that the man's thought process would have been, 'The kid is a brat and the pond is there so fuck it.'

Charlie coughed, no doubt telling her teammates to get serious and stop distracting her as she led John the stairs to their floor. 

"One of dad's guests said there was a man in here last night," said Charlie as she led John into the room where Des had deduced the demonic activity had most recently taken place. "He didn't even stay for the whole two nights. Just checked out and ran."

The next few minutes were silent except for a bit of shuffling. Des kind of wished he could be in that room at that moment to watch John work. When they were together John had began cutting down on his more dangerous line of work. He started writing for an occult magazine and performing stage magic in a bar on Saturday nights so he didn't have to take the riskier gigs. He had told Des that he was eventually going to give it up completely. At the time Des had believed him but three months into their relationship he knew John well enough to know that magic was an addiction John was never going to shake. It was as much a part of him as the blood flowing through his veins. Don't get him wrong, he _wanted_ John to stop, he just wasn't naive enough to continue believing that he ever would, and at the time he was fine with that. 

"Awright," Des heard John say, bringing him out of his musings. "All these doors lock automatically, yeah?"

Charlie replied in the affirmative.

"You're dealing with Surgat. A poncy little demon who likes to play with locks. It's almost impossible to secure a room against him ... in the physical sense anyway."

"So what do we do?" asked Charlie. 

"Well, you are going to show me your room so I can draw a protective circle for you and then you are going to go about the rest of your day, go to bed and let me coax out the little bastard so I can send him back where he belongs."

"You said a swear. That's a dollar for the jar," Sara and Des chuckled, pretty sure that Charlie was just fucking with John.

"Piss off kid, take it out of my fee if you must. Now run along. I've got work to do."

Des heard them exiting to room just as Charlie gave him the signal. So Des picked up his phone and exited his own room. He pulled the door closed, making sure he had picked up both key cards and looked at his phone, trying to remain as casual as possible. 

"Des?"

The man looked up and plastered on his best 'charming, bartender smile'. "Oh hey John," he said. "Wasn't expecting to run into you here."

"Well it's a gig economy. I go where the work is," John replied with his own smile and put his hands in his pockets. Des was starting to notice that this was a way for the man to cover up shyness when later it would become a genuine expression of 'not giving a fuck'. 

Des looked down at Kid Charlie who was looked between the two men with a knowing smile which was very fitting on the face of a pre-teen schoolgirl. 

"What did I tell you kid? Beat it."

Charlie giggled and bumped into Des on the way down the hall, swiping one of the keycards from him just like they had planned. John, thank the Gods, hadn't seemed to have noticed a thing. Des, wholesome, honourable boy that he was, should not have felt this good about his ability to con perhaps the greatest con artist who ever lived. Though to be fair, he was going in with a lot of information but that was basically what a con was, you should always know more than your mark and use it to misdirect them. John had been the one to teach him that. Plus, Des was thirty-three years old. John was only twenty-four and not that far removed from the biggest mistake of his life. 

Des, for the first time since he had met John, held all the cards and it made him feel powerful. He would never use that power to hurt John but a vindictive part of him did revel in it. 

"Oh, Mister Constantine, my room is on the top floor. Second door on the right."

She then skipped away leaving John with his mouth hanging open as he looked at Des. It didn't take him long to compose himself and smoothly explain, "She's a friend's kid. Little shit's just trying to embarrass me."

"So," Des said, drawing out the word, making it clear that he didn't believe John but he wasn't accusing him of anything sinister. "You are just here for a visit? There's no demonic activity going on here whatsoever?"

John cocked his head, "What have you heard?"

"Just some mutterings among the guests," Des shrugged. "Plus the owner was pretty enthusiastic to accept my business. Even offered me an extra night at a discount. Plus," Des paused, looking at his shoes, trying to seem bashful. "I may not practice but I have pretty good instincts about these kinds of things. I tend to know when something evil is nearby."

John smiled, "And yet you checked in anyway."

"Hey, you try getting a reasonably priced hotel in New York without booking."

"Fair enough." After, what appeared to be a moment of consideration, the younger man continued. "So, do you feel like helping me out. It means I'll owe you one. Maybe I can help you out with that synchronicity thing you were talking about. Let's go downstairs for a coffee and we can chat."

The two men started walking down the corridor together in the direction of the stairs. "Did your um ... partner find out anything?"

John huffed, "Nicky's ... difficult, to put it nicely. He's locked himself in the study and refuses to talk to me and Zee about it. All I get is, 'I'll let you know when I have something.' Sneaky bastard knows something alright but he's keeping it to himself for now."

It didn't take much effort to look affronted on John's behalf, "Why would he do that? I thought you three were coven."

"We are but Nick is ... kind of obsessive. Once he gets his claws into something he won't let it go. This synchronicity highway you mentioned really peaked his interest. Don't get me wrong though, Zee and I have been on his ass about it since you left oblivion."

The lounge had a couple of businessmen typing on laptops and an old couple sitting with some tea and sandwiches. Any others who weren't eating in their rooms were probably in the dining room. The kitchen was visible through a hatch where people could ask for something. One bored looking teenager was managing the hatch while a couple other members of kitchen staff bustled around behind him. "Two coffees please," Des said, pulling out some of the money Sara had given him.

It did not escape Des' attention that John made no effort to put his hand in his own pocket. The man was a master at getting people to pay for him, or for that matter, do anything for him. All it took, that fateful evening all those months ago, was a suggestive upward glance in Des' direction for the bartender to tell him, his meal was on the house. Was it manipulative? Sure. Did Des fall for it every time? Yes. On anyone else it would have rubbed Des the wrong way but there was just something magnetic about John that made people want to be around him, and he never failed to use that to his advantage. 

'I've never had trouble making friends,' John had once said. 'It's keeping them that's the trick.'

Perhaps for a lot of people the initial spell wore off and all that was left standing before them was, in their eyes, an asshole. Des however, was still under that spell. He wondered if he always would be. There were certainly some people who John _had_ managed to keep a hold of, namely Chas and these Legend friends of his. Hell, even the people who hated John had trouble saying no to him. If Des held onto that thought, maybe he would feel like less of a sucker. 

"Cheers," John said as he was handed the coffee.

The two men then went to sit in two vacant, soft seats near the fireplace. John took off his leather jacket and draped it across the back of his chair and as he sat across from Des, the other man spotted a fairly noticeable bite mark in the juncture between John's neck and shoulder. His teeth grinded as he immediately assumed that it must have been Nick's doing until he noticed that there was also a smudge of lipstick on the t-shirt collar. After the show Des witnessed the night before he shouldn't have been surprised. John had never outright asked Des to bite him but any time the taller man had nibbled on any part of his skin (particularly neck and thighs), John had always pleaded for him to do it harder. 

John caught Des looking which snapped him back to reality. The blonde man didn't say anything, just grinned (he always _had_ been shameless). 


	7. Interlude of A Bygone Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry people, just needed some smut. Why is there not more smut with these two. Scratch that more (non reader insert) Constantine smut in general. 
> 
> (1) Yes John's Cigarette smoke is magical. Seriously that is canon in Hellblazer.

_The smell of cigarette smoke never bothered Des. John was courteous enough to never smoke in the house but the smell clung to him. While John was not picky about his booze he was very particular about his cigarettes. He would smoke MarlBoros if he really had to but his brand was Silk Cut. You couldn't buy them in many places in New Orleans which drove John crazy. Des found it incredibly funny that the man never just thought to order them online. The blonde man almost kissed Chas full on the mouth when he came to visit and brought him three cartons from duty free._

_Due to his worry over John's health, Des disliked the near constant smoking but it was also one of the things about John that never failed to make Des shiver. There was a certain way he would hold his cigarette. A certain way he would flick his lighter on and off. A certain distant look he would sometimes get as the nicotine calmed his nerves._

_This is what led Des to watching John smoke out on the balcony of his apartment. John occasionally woke up in the middle of the night but this was the first time he had needed a cigarette to calm his nerves. The blonde man stood leaning against the railing with his hip cocked and one leg crossed over the other. The smoke, instead of blowing away, lingered around him as if casting a protective charm (1). He was beautiful._

_Just as the flame of the cigarette was approaching the filter Des made his way back to the bedroom before he was discovered. A couple of minutes later John quietly crept into the room and got into bed. John had taken off the t-shirt he was wearing and Des could smell toothpaste, but still the smell of Silk Cut clung to him. Soon after he entered the bed Des was clinging to him. The taller man pulled John in close so they were back to chest and buried his nose in the back of his neck._

_"Bad dreams?" Des asked._

_John waved a dismissive hand in the air, "Don't remember, go back to sleep."_

_Des didn't have to wrack his brain to work out what could be bothering John. Earlier that evening John had gone to make a cup of tea and left his new phone on the coffee table. John was actually not as bad with technology as he liked to pretend. He just didn't like using it. A message popped up on his lockscreen. Des wouldn't have looked at it but his eyes caught the words Happy Birthday from a woman named Cheryl. Des didn't read the rest of the message and returned to reading his paper. From what he had gathered from Chas' visit, John's childhood had been pretty horrendous. Chas was a very discreet man (unless he was deliberately trying to embarrass John) so he didn't go into details about it. He didn't even mention any members of John's family. Just warned him to be on the look out for days when he would become maudlin for seemingly no reason._

_John had actually been fine that day. Perhaps he'd forgotten. Des wanted to demand that John talk to him and at least admit that it was his freaking birthday but he knew that pushing was a bad idea. Pushing when he was angry was fine. Pushing when he was sad was not._

_Des didn't know what he was thinking but he started kissing John's neck and sliding his hand down his rib cage. He then rolled the blonde man over onto his back and leaned over him, "So why don't I give you a dream you_ will _remember."_

_John grinned, "Someone thinks highly of himself."_

_"I've had a lot of really good feedback," Des replied, leaning down to give John a quick kiss. "Although I could be mistaken. I seem to recall someone not being able to talk correctly."_

_All the while he was talking Des trailed a hand down John's chest, between his legs and on the final word, cupped John's cock firmly. The smaller man arched up into the touch, allowing the surprise to guide his actions. Something Des knew he would have not done with just any lover._

_"I'm sorry," Des said. "What was that?"_

_"Fuck off," John replied, but there was no heat to it._

_Des leaned down to kiss him but he was stopped midway by John's hand on the side of his head. The blonde man just lay there and stared at him with a wistful look on his face. Des wondered what was going through his mind but at the same time didn't want to know. He was no doubt questioning the validity of his own happiness again. Instead of asking what was wrong Des leaned down again and kissed him, not gently or tenderly but passionately. He had made up his mind to knock every coherent thought out of the man's head._

_John wrapped his arms around Des' muscular back and dug his fingers into the back of his skull, not having that much hair to grip. He then brought his knees up to bracket the larger man's hips. Des could feel that John was already hard and he was starting to grind upwards. Des grabbed his hips and pushed them down, deepening their kiss. He leaned up and unceremoniously flipped John over onto his front, pulled down his sweatpants and, reached for the lube in the bedside table drawer._

_"And you say_ I'm _overeager," John joked. He was a little breathless but the fact that he could speak at all told Des that he was still far too coherent. So he leaned down once again and gently sunk his teeth into John's neck. The smaller man became very still which Des found concerning._

_"Did I hurt you?" he asked._

_The reply that came was an intense moan of, "God no."_

_So Des, once again started nibbling his boyfriend's neck, "Harder," whispered John._

_Des obliged and John let out a keening noise, "Harder," he said again._

_This continued until Des was convinced he was going to break the skin. He wasn't comfortable with that even if John wanted it. So he distracted the man by lubing up his fingers and shoving them inside him. That was the thing that finally shut John up. The blonde man's fingers clenched in the pillows as Des dragged his free hand up the the length of John's ribs, and then up his arm before interlacing their fingers._

_John was an exceptionally good lay even in situations like this where his partner didn't want him to do anything but experience the act. Des knew this because every time he entered John the other man would know exactly how to move against him, when to clench his inner walls, and when to make obscene noises that drove Des insane. This time was no different, though Des was determined to make it last. He wasn't going to fall for any of John's tricks. Every time the smaller man lifted his hips Des pushed them down. Every time John would clench he would slow down his thrusts. Every time the man attempted to illicit a response from Des, the taller man would lean down and nibble on his ear. Thankfully John was too far gone at that point to ask him to do it harder._

_Des lost track of time but he guessed that he had been inside John for around ten minutes before he was fully convinced that the other man was no longer trying to put on a show and was just allowing himself to feel. That was incredibly gratifying. Des reached underneath John and toyed with his nipples as he thrusted agonisingly slowly._

_"Jesus, fuck, please," John cried out as he tried to get up onto his knees and push back against Des._

_The larger man wanted to teasingly ask, 'Please what?' but he didn't want John to get into a headspace where he had to start thinking again. So Des said nothing and gripped john's hips, pulling him up onto his knees. He also reached a hand between the blonde's legs and started pumping in time with the thrusts. He started off with a steady rhythm, all the while looking at John whose head was resting on crossed arms._

_As much as he loved John's wit, his fearlessness, his charm, and his confidence, a big part of Des' love for John came from the fact that there was someone underneath that magnetic exterior. He wasn't all tricks and hacks and winning smiles. He was John Constantine, a (now) thirty-six year old man from Liverpool who had, had it rough and deserved to have someone in his life who put him first._

_Des could see John's arms shaking from what little weight they were holding and thus decided it was time to end this. He gradually increased his thrusts in time with his pumps and before long John's ass was clenching around him so wonderfully that Des almost came on the spot but he managed to keep himself in check and continued to thrust, riding out John's orgasm before cumming inside him._

_Des only just managed to avoid falling onto of John as he flopped down onto the bed. Every harsh breath he drew came with a feeling of satisfaction until he realised that John's breaths were quieter and more even. He looked at the smaller man as smiled as he noted that John had fallen asleep. He looked so incredibly peaceful._

_Des would later learn that Cheryl was his sister and it wasn't actually his birthday when she contacted him. Due to the time difference she had ended up contacting him a day early. That was why he had woke up around midnight, because he continued to be haunted by the idea that his first day on this world also meant his mother's last. The good thing about that particular year was, John didn't wake until one in the afternoon and only seemed truly maudlin after he called his sister. He did it in full view of Des and when he hung up the phone he turned to Des and told him everything._


	8. Conjob Part Two

Des ignored the smile and pushed away the thoughts he had of days gone by and got down to business, "Synchronicity in magic is the guiding force of the universe. Being able to ride the synchronicity highway basically means the magician has the ability to use fate to gain a greater advantage. It basically means you can create your own luck."

John looked sceptical, "You sure this is real mate? Sounds like whoever told you this spun you tall tales. I've been dabbling in the occult since I was seven and believe me, magic is never that simple. You can't just make your own luck. There is always a price to pay."

"I didn't say there was no price. Whatever consequences the magician avoids usually is bestowed on those closest to them, sometimes proximity to the user is enough to reap consequences. So as you can imagine, a life of dead or scarred loved ones and knowing you bare responsibility is a pretty heavy price."

John didn't look fully convinced but he was certainly starting to come around to the idea, "So if this synchronicity wave riding is so terrible why ask around about it? I'm pretty sure you don't want to learn it since you said that you made a conscious decision not to practice."

Des gave a chuckle, sounding deliberately rueful, "I couldn't learn it even if I wanted to. Only descendants of 'The Laughing Magicians' are able to do this and I'm pretty sure many of them throughout history have done it passively, without even knowing what it was they were doing." Des chuckled again, more honestly this time, "They have tricked and even enslaved Gods with nothing but wit and luck."

John's brow had become furrowed when Des mentioned 'The Laughing Magicians'.

"Something wrong?" Des asked, trying to be casual. 

"Nothing, just thought I might have heard something about this laughing magician lot before. I'll have to get back to you on that. Anyway," he continued without a beat, "I've got to secure that kid's room."

"Any way I can help," asked Des.

"Yeah," John replied pulling a door chain out of his pocket. "My biggest problem is I don't know which room Surgat is going to strike in next so I thought I'd set out a little bait for him by making it harder to enter my room. Hopefully he takes the challenge and I can trap him and send the peeping little bastard back to where he belongs." He then handed the lock over to Des along with a screw driver, some screws, and a room card. "Just fix this to the inside of that room me and the kid came out of."

"No problem."

John shutting down all of a sudden was concerning. Des was sure that John didn't know he was 'The Laughing Magician' because he didn't even know such a thing in Des' time but something had definitely shook him up. So after they parted ways Des called Sara and told her to complete the task John had assigned him while he followed John and hoped to get some answers. Sure enough, while John was salting kid-Charlie's door frame and carving a protective symbol into the wood he was also having an argument on the phone. Luckily the door to the stairwell was quite thin so Des could hear every word. 

"Don't give me that shit Nicky. I saw the words 'laughing magician' in your notes, this is what you have been studying and not telling me and Zee about ... no don't talk to me about snooping, you possessive bastard. I know you go through my shit all the time. And if you don't do the same to Zee then the only reason is because she always knows where everything is, and if she caught you she'd turn your hands incorporeal for a month. And don't count on me to help you wank if that ever happens ... No I am not being ridiculous, screw you ... No, we won't talk when I get home. We are going to talk now. I'm not going to give you any time to come up with horseshit ... Nick? Nick! Oh, you son of a bitch."

John looked like he wanted to throw his phone against the wall but instead took a deep breath and put it in his pocket. Des decided that he had seen enough and went back to the other room to wait for John. 

"What's going on?" Sara asked when he got inside.

"I talked to John about the Synchronicity Highway and as it turns out Necro knows a lot more about it than he is letting on, especially to John. Who by the way was up there yelling at him naught but a minute ago."

Sara looked worried, "This could put a dent in our mission. If John or Necro get too spooked by you then ..."

"Don't worry. I know John. If he was pulling away from me right now, I'd know it." Sara gave him a skeptical look that was laced with a subtle pity that Des really didn't care for. "I know what I'm doing Sara. I'm getting him to trust me."

"Well, if you are sure I'll leave it to you but if we have to erase memories more than once because of a screw up then we're not only risking this mission but John as well, not to mention fate itself."

Des was resolute, "I got this."

Sara gave him one last look before checking that the corridor was clear and leaving the room. 

Two minutes later John entered the room with an easy smile on his face. There was no sign that anything was amiss. "Y'aright," he said, inspecting the lock. "Well, this looks all set."

He then knelt down in the middle of the room and swept aside the rug, coughing as a thick cloud of dust rose into the air. "Jeez, looks like the maid's been shirking her duties. Wonder if she's drinking or having it off with the cook." John seemed to be mostly talking to himself as he drew containment symbols on the ground, "I knew this bird once. Kinda shy on first impressions but boy was she into some messed up shit. I tell ya chief it's always the quiet ones."

"Not always," Des countered before he could stop himself. 

John looked up, a little startled by the comment. Des worried that he was going to take offense until John let out a huge laugh, "Yeah, I guess a visit to Oblivion will introduce you to all sorts," he paused. "I've been rattling on 'ere 'aven't I?"

His accent was coming out a little thicker than usual which usually meant he was excited or distracted. "Don't worry. I'm sure most Americans find it charming."

John chuckled and moved the rug back into place. There was a moment of silence before he said, "Right all that's left to do is wait. Thanks for the help."

"I'll stay with you. I'm pretty sure you can handle this demon alone but you never know."

John shrugged, "Suit yerself."

In truth Des actually wanted to see John's work. The best views he'd had of it were a few flashy tricks that weren't good for much else other than conning, and the banishment spell John had used to send him to hell. John tended to get by on nothing more than a small bag of tricks and his reputation but he had that reputation for good reason. Cunning was his true magic and Des had never gotten to see that side of him. He'd always thought that, that was for the best but now that he had the chance he wanted to know everything.

They sat in silence so as to not scare off the demon and risk it going to another room. After it had been dark for a few hours Des started to think that he wasn't going to come. Then an eerie jiggling noise could be heard coming from the door. John motioned Des to the far corner of the room while he himself hid behind the wardrobe. 

Des' heart pounded as the jiggling got louder and the chain started to move. He held his breath. 

It was dark so Des couldn't make out a face but the huge horns on the head of the cloaked figure was enough. He almost felt sick. The creature smelled like hell. He hadn't even noticed that hell had had a smell while he was there but it was coming back to him. Des was panicking. He couldn't breathe. He might have screamed if his throat had been working. He might have run were his feet not routed in place. He was going to pass out. Any moment his vision was going to fog over and he was going to hit the floor. 

" _Surgat de hoc mundo exisse, In nomine Dei iuberis. De hoc mundo exisse in nomine Dei iuberis. Disperges in ventum! The Sacred Cross commands you! Be not and be gone!"_

The symbols underneath the rug glowed so brightly that Des could see them. They illuminated the horrific face of the demon who was some unidentifiable animal. It shrieked and snarled, "Constantine. You filthy little cockroach. Your soul ..."

"Yeah, yeah," John didn't give him a chance to finish and looked unbothered as he finished the spell, " _Disperges in ventum! The Sacred Cross commands you! The Star of David commands you! Be not and be gone!"_

The demon gave another horrendous shriek before it was sucked into hell. 

Des just stood there. His heart was beating, his head was pounding and ... he ran to the bathroom and threw up. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He had seen demons before and this one was hardly powerful. John had had no trouble getting rid of it and no-one had gotten hurt. Why did he feel this way? His head spun and spun so he just gripped the toilet to ground himself. This helped him to avoid passing out. 

He started coming back to himself in stages. He regained his vision, then his breathing evened out, causing the pounding in his ears to quieten. After a few minutes of steady breaths he flushed the toilet and washed his hands. It was only when he looked in the mirror above the sink that he noticed the tears on his face. His panic started to rise again as he wondered how the hell he was going to explain this to John, before taking a deep breath and telling himself that the other man would naturally assume he had just had a bad reaction to seeing his first exorcism. 

After drying his face and calming his breathing, Des opened the door and came face to face with John who was sitting on the bed. His eyes were hard. 

"Okay," he said. "What's your game?"

"What do you mean?" Des asked, trying to sound perplexed but his voice came out croaked. 

John sighed, "Let's start with the question you dodged earlier. Why are you asking around after this Synchronicity Highway? You claimed that you want nothing to do with it but from what I've seen you've got some kind of past with dark magic. Plus, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling that you came to this city looking for me specifically."

Des' heart was thumping so hard that he could hear the blood in his ears. This was it. He had fucked up. Whatever he said, John was going to take one look at his face and realise he was lying. 

"I lost someone," is what he said. 

Silence followed as John waited for him to continue. Sticking as close to the truth as possible was the only thing he could do to salvage this. 

"He got involved in some dark magic and I paid the price for it. I was stupid. I tried to get involved, thought I could save him but I just ... I'm sorry I can't ... I just ... bad things happened and he blamed himself. He went searching for 'The Loom of Fate' thinking he could change what had happened."

"'The Loom of Fate'?" John said incredulously. "As in the craft project of three old Greek bats?"

Despite everything, that description did make Des chuckle, "I know it's hard to believe ..."

"You're bloody right there, mate."

"But it's true. My friend ... he found it and tried to weave a spell to change my previous fate but all he ended up doing was erasing himself from the timeline. I need help getting him back. Only someone who rides the Synchronicity Highway can exert that kind of power over fate without the loom."

"So what's this gotta do with me?"

"I consulted a shaman back in New Orleans. He said. 'Time and distance move out of the way for John Constantine.' You ride the Synchronicity Highway John. You are the latest descendant of The Laughing Magicians."

John stood up. He looked fairly calm but Des could tell he was getting ready to storm out. 

"It's true and I can prove it," he reached into his pocket and pulled out the amulet that Charlie had given him. "Just put this on. It shows you the Highway. I promise, I'm not lying to you. I wouldn't."

John gave an incredulous laugh, "You think I'm daft, mate? I'm not gonna take candy from the suspicious man claiming he needs my 'elp."

His accent was thickening again. This revelation must have really rattled him. Maybe it was because this proved that Necro was keeping something important from him. A childish part of Des couldn't help but feel happy about that. 

"We've already established that I can't handle myself around magic. Unless you think I faked that."

"Just because demons make you queasy doesn't mean you don't know your way around a good ol' nighty night spell."

Des huffed, his impatience and desperation overtaking his panic, "Here," he said grabbing John's wrist and putting the amulet into his hand. "Take it home, test it. Just whatever you do don't show it to your boyfriend."

John tried to jerk his arm away, "You fuckin'..."

But Des wouldn't let go, "Just, please, do it. Please. You're the only chance I have to make this right. This is my fault. I can't live like this anymore," he took a deep breath and reluctantly released John's arm. "Please."

Des didn't know if it was the sheer desperation in his tone or if John just acquiesced to get out of there. Either way, the smaller man said, "Fine, I'll take a look. Nick invited you back to Oblivion on Friday. I'd better not see your face until then. We clear?"

Des nodded, unable to say anything else. He kept his head down and only _heard_ the door slam as John left before collapsing, boneless and exhausted onto the bed, thinking, 'How the hell am I going to explain this to Sara?'


	9. Sara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara comes to the conclusion that John hasn't changed at all in twelve years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry I've been gone for so long but there has been so much going on. But couldn't stay away from John forever. 
> 
> Sorry it's a short chapter but I really wanted to see what Sara's thought about all this were. 
> 
> I've been focusing in youtube for a while so if you're interested in John, here's me comparing the comic book to its adaptation: https://youtu.be/1_jGQh6Pl2g

Sara had been through her fair share of challenges in her life, and she was sure that many of them had been harder than this but none had been more frustrating. She had been hoping John had been at least somewhat less cunning in his youth. She had reassured Ava that as long as they kept things simple they would sneak this whole mission past John. Ava had hardly ever had a nice thing to say about the man but she seemed unconvinced that they could pull this off. 

'Thanks honey,' Sara thought. 

But at this moment in time she couldn't deny her girlfriend's worries. She and Charlie had heard the whole conversation go south on their comms. She should have known that Des wasn't okay. She suspected it but had continuously pushed aside her worries because they had no other options. That was stupid, you didn't just walk out of hell and back into normality. Des had some pretty severe PTSD that was only now fully manifesting itself. She knew the signs, she lived those signs. She should have taken this into account when coming up with the plan. It was stupid and irresponsible to leave it all to Des. 

"I'll stay on John," she said to Charlie. "I'll let you know if we need to do a wipe. Maybe this is still salvageable. Go check on Des."

'Time to put your assassin head on,' she thought as she followed John out of the building. 

The man would be on his highest guard but his guard was not better than her skills ... unless he had some kind of detection spell she didn't know about. 'Damn. We'll have to cross that bridge if we come to it. I hate magic.'

If Sara was being honest with herself she adored John. She felt a kinship with him she had never felt with anyone else. Someone who did horrendous things and truly believed in his heart that he didn't deserve forgiveness, nor did he really want it in most cases. Yet he still fought because he didn't know how to do anything else. It was nothing like how it was with Oliver. She and Oliver's kinship came from a mutual understanding of shared wrongs and suffering. Not to mention their ill-fated romantic entanglements. She had no romantic interest in John. She was definitely attracted to him and she wasn't kidding when she said he was a great shag. But in terms of romantic feelings there was nothing there. She tried to explain that to Ava who, bless her, tried to understand. It hurt the woman to think that there were things Sara couldn't talk to her about. Not that she hid anything, she just wanted Ava to love the woman she was now and even if her past was a part of what made her that person, she still didn't like poisoning her new life with who she use to be. 

She could share that part of herself with John and not worry about it affecting their relationship. He had even felt comfortable enough to confide in her that he has been diagnosed with chronic psychotic depression and was in a mental hospital for some time when he was younger. Granted they were both drunk at the time but at least now she knew what to look out for. Full blown episodes (resulting in catatonia) apparently happened less than once a year and John had assured her that he always knew they were coming at least a couple of days before hand. That was enough time for him to go back to England and check himself into Ravenscar Psychiatric Hospital who knew how to handle him (plus they were NHS funded). 

Sara had however spotted some smaller yet still very infrequent episodes after their talk. They mostly took the form of auditory hallucinations and had only happened twice since she knew him and both times he very quickly realised that what he was hearing wasn't real and ignored it. She still remembered the first time it happened. They were just reading companionably in the ship's common room when John all off a sudden said, "Answer that phone will ya, love."

Sara was confused, "What phone?" she asked. 

"It can't be mine. I don't know where the bloody thing is. Did I leave it in here?" He then started looking under the coffee table and between the couch cushions, getting more and more agitated. "Bloody thing's getting louder. Where is it?"

"John," she had said, standing up and making him look at her, though being careful not to touch him. "John, tell me what you're hearing? Where is it coming from?" she said calmly. 

He looked at her for a minute before his face fell, "There is no phone, is there?" he asked numbly. "Doesn't matter, it's gone to voice mail anyway."

He then sat down and started reading again. Like any person, she wanted to talk about what she had just witnessed but she knew John well enough to know that she would get nothing out of him at that time and resolved to address it later. She just made them both tea and went back to reading. 

She had never managed to get John to have that talk with her. 

Just because she loved him didn't mean she didn't find him infinitely frustrating at times. Right now he was frustrating her without even knowing she existed. 

Thankfully she managed to follow him back to his apartment without him being any the wiser. It was a modest place but probably still cost a fortune, it being New York. She wasn't going to ask how three people in their twenties (John and Zatara being 24 and Necro being 29) could afford such a place. Zatara's dad was rich, Necro was shady and John was John so it wasn't that hard to believe. The place looked old but the combined living room and kitchen had all the modern conviences, though they looked barely used. The kitchen worktop had more books on it than cooking equipment and the stove looked like it was used for potions more than food. 

Sara was perched on a fire escape across the street. She could see the living room clearly as well as two doors, one of which John entered. If she wanted a proper look she was going to have to get inside the apartment. That was risky as there were, no doubt, many magical safeguards surrounding the place. She volted across the alleyway and landed on the opposite fire escape, giving her a closer view, luckily John had left the door opened. Her target was out of site and she couldn't see much except for the fact that the room only had one, enormous bed. She thought about trying the window but suddenly John came storming out of the bedroom, causing her to jump back to avoid being seen, and went into the other room. This one she could see into a lot better. It was very clearly a study as books lined the walls and there were three desks against the three walls Sara could see. They all gave off the impression of organised chaos but in very different ways. Sara found it kind of funny that for how mysterious and tricky these people were, it was very easy for her to tell which desk belonged to which magician. 

John went to the one with the most hand written notes and opened books and riffled through the paper before finding the specific one he was looking for. His face took on a angry expression as he read it. Whatever it was Sara couldn't let him confront Necro about it as that would complicated things too much for a simple mind wipe. Plus, a big blow-out fight with his boyfriend was just going to put John on edge more and make him less willing to help them. 

She had to get a look at that paper. There was only one thing she could do. She would have to stake out the house until Friday night. That was a time she knew John, Zatara, and Necro would be gone and she could do some information gathering. 

So she relayed the information to Charlie, telling her that they were going to have to alternate surveillance and handling Des. There was every chance that he wouldn't be able to complete the mission but sadly they still had to try. 

And she hated herself for thinking that, that was reasonable. 


	10. The Blood of the Coven is Thicker

Nick was not a man who feared much. Nor did he fear anything at the moment but he was not looking forward to going home to face John. Zee would be at the theatre all day. He thought about avoiding the apartment until it was time for her to come home. Not that John was less inclined to do something wicked to Nick in her presence but she would at least stop the retribution from being so nasty. John was a vindictive little shit. 

Still, even if Zatanna would protect him she would still take John's side when it came to this issue. That made it two against one. The thought made Nick irritated and a little hurt, though he would never admit it. They were coven, it was them against the world but internally when disagreements came up it usually ended up with either two against one, or the neutral party refusing to take sides. As a coven they disagreed a lot since they were very different magicians. Magic meant something entirely different to all of them. Funnily enough in the two against one situations it was usually him and John with Zee objecting. She wasn't a fan of dark magic. She was no angel herself but the kind of magic that went places the mind and soul shouldn't logically want to go ... she never took to it. John and he on the other hand were twisted in similar ways. John was a bit of a masochist and was usually willing to take any magical beating their research doled out. Lately though he had been listening to Zee more and more when Nick wanted to go deeper and Zee said they had all had enough. It use to be him and Zee telling John that he had, had enough for one day. Everything was just wrong lately. Their dynamic was changing. Nick was getting further away from his coven while the two of them were growing closer together.

Well, he wasn't going anywhere. If John and Zee wouldn't see reason then he would just have to compartmentalize. John's heritage could be crucial to finding the books of magic. He would tell the kid when he was ready to hear the information. Nick was the oldest and most experienced of all of them. If he could just get John and Zee to see reason, they'd understand. Perhaps that is where he had failed as their teacher. 

Nick opened the door to their apartment expecting to get punched in the face by John before he was even in the door. Instead he found Zee on the floor of a wrecked living room, frantically gathering the items for a locator spell.

"Nick, Nick thank God," she ran over to him, grabbing him by the coat. "John's gone, they took him. They took him."

"Who took him?"

"The Cult of the Cold Flame. They were looking for you Nick. They said, they were leaving me alive to tell you to surrender and John was insurance. What the fuck have you gotten us into Nick."

'Shit,' Nick thought. 'Shit, shit, shit.'

"Where did they take him?" he asked looking for all the world like his calm, controlled self. 

"I don't fucking know. They bound my magic. I only just got free. Where the fuck is that scrying map? Zatanna was getting more and more wound up with every sentence. 

Nick took her by the shoulders and said, "Let's just calm down. We are not going to find John this way. Just breathe Zee. We've been doing nothing but scrying for months looking for the Books of Magic. Finding John should be no problem."

Zatanna took a deep breath and nodded her head before Nick went into their study to bring out the map. While in there he had a quick look at his desk. Yes, his papers had definitely been moved. 'A problem for later,' he thought to himself grabbing the map and marching back into the living room. 

He and Zatanna both knelt on the floor with the map between them. There were many ways to scry but blood magic was the most binding especially with someone whom you shared a connection with. Both of the magicians pulled out their knives, made small cuts on their coven tattoos and said in unison, "Vierndes Locosorn John Constantine," before allowing the blood to drip onto the map. 

What should have happened was the droplets of blood travelling across the map to find each other. What should have happened is the larger droplet should have settled on the place on the map were John was and dried in. Instead the two droplets made their way to opposite sides of the map and settled nowhere.

Nick stared at it for a moment. This wasn't right. Sure they had been scrying for the books of magic and had gotten nowhere so he knew the frustration of a failed Scry but this map wasn't telling him that John wasn't on the map. It was telling him that he _was_ but the spell just didn't know where. That had never happened. Nick knew it could happen with interference but who the fuck is powerful enough to interfere with both him and Zatanna's magic?

"Well fuck," he said. 

"Nick," Zatanna said, her voice calm. Nick's heart jumped because he knew that tone. She was angry. If she were anymore furious he would be in serious trouble. In fact Nick was pretty certain that if he were anything other than himself or John he would have been flung across the room and held immobile by her magic. "What have you gotten us involved with?"

"We can talk about this when we get John back. Right now we need to focus ..."

"No!" Zee's eyes glowed silver and Nick swore he felt the ground shake. "No, not later. Not when you're ready. Not when we get John back. Not when we get the fucking books of magic. You are going to tell me what you've been hiding from us right now or when we find John that will be the last you ever see of me."

Nick's heart clenched. Those words. Those fucking words. 

That was what he had been waiting to hear for months now. For her and John to say they were done. They only wanted each other and he was no longer necessary. Jesus fuck, they used to worship the fucking ground he walked on. Now they barely gave him a second thought. Whenever he got in from a long night, they were always snuggled up on the couch. Sure, they would ask him to join them but that was only out of courtesy because he was their boyfriend and he just walked into the room, what were they going to say? But they never came to him, never asked to be close to him anymore. This was coming for a very, very long time. But Nick wasn't ready to give up just yet. 

He schooled his features, there was no way he would let heartbreak show on his face. He sat down on the couch and motioned for Zee to join him. Which, thankfully she did. 

"You're right Zee, I have been keeping things from you. I didn't intend to do it forever but you're right, I shouldn't have done it at all. This Cult of the Cold Flame, they are looking for the books of magic too. They are fanatics. The leaders want to create an army of magicians and rule over them. Usual cliched, take over the world stuff but they are getting more and more powerful. They are dangerous, Zee. I know you can handle danger better than any of us but ... God how do I even say this? You're father is one of the founding members."

Zatanna just sat there looking genuinely shocked, like this was not what she expected. "I thought this was going to be about John."

That was a weird thing to say. 

Everything Nick said was true and even if it wasn't nearly the whole truth, why would Zatanna think this was all to do with John? 

"I saw the papers Nick. I know you've been keeping what you've learned about his lineage from us. I thought this was all about him."

'Shit,' Nick thought. He miscalculated. Rookie con-man mistake. Never give more information than you needed to. John was the one missing he should have focused on John. 

"I got the information from them." That was the first outright lie he told. "They don't know the latest in 'The Laughing Magician' line is John but they are researching it. I thought if I found out what they knew about the books of magic we could find them before they do and stop them. I thought if they were researching 'The Laughing Magicians' it might be worth looking into. I only recently found out it was John. I wanted to know more before I took this information to both of you. This is John's lineage and it's your father. I didn't want to upset either of you if it wasn't necessary."

Zatanna shot up, "Upset us," she screeched. "Upset us. This wasn't information that was yours to keep. How could you hide this from us? We're coven Nick, that means we are supposed to share everything."

Nick's brows furrowed, "I was going to say the same thing to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Oh they weren't doing this right now. "We need to find John. I've told you everything I know. You want to waste more time, or do you want to get him back?"

Zatanna cast her head down. She still looked angry but also sad and a little defeated, "It's never the right time for you is it?"

Nick didn't know how to answer that. Anything he did say would just cause an argument. So he grabbed his weapons from the side table and grabbed the door to open it. 

When he was half way through the doorframe he heard Zee's quiet voice, "Nick, I love you. Why is that not enough?"

The older magician didn't allow the pause those words caused him to be anything other than minimal. He had John to get back. If there was one thing he could admit is that this was his fault even if it couldn't have been avoided. 

********

Outside of the window Sara looked on wishing to all deities that she knew what they were saying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update. I am having one those writing blocks where I have loads of scenes I want to write but am unenthused about writing the scenes that it takes to get to them. 
> 
> Anyone who is confused don't worry. All will be revealed.


End file.
